Games of the Heart. Pamela Yaye

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      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 1

      “Come on, you stupid thing,” Sage Collins grumbled, huffing vigorously. “I gave you my change, now give me my damn Kit Kat candy bar!” Forgetting that she was at Indianapolis’s illustrious Westchester Academy, and that impressionable young children were milling about, she smacked the vending machine glass powerfully with her right palm. “I want my chocolate bar and I want it now, you good for nothing piece of—”

      “What’s going on here?” demanded a voice behind her.

      Sage didn’t bother to turn around. Her eyes were fixed on the chocolate bar, held captive between a jumbo bag of Cheetos cheese puffs and a can of roasted peanuts.

      “Do I need to get security?”

      Now the man had her attention. Sage tossed a look over her shoulder and quickly regarded the taller-than-average brother. He was a giant of a man. Built like an NFL linebacker, but without the jiggly beer belly and menacing stare, he had extrawide shoulders, ripped forearms and a pair of strong, sturdy legs. Staggered by his height, but not the least bit intimidated by his brisk tone, she expelled a breath. “This machine sucks,” she told him, sweeping her bangs off her forehead. “If I had matches, I’d torch it.”

      “Ever stop to think that maybe it’s the customer and not the product?”

      “No, because it robbed a six-year-old of his allowance five minutes ago.”

      His furious scowl matched the heat in his eyes. “You’re acting like a deranged psycho, and I’m supposed to believe you? Are you on medication or something?”

      Sage was a mature, cultured, twenty-eight-year-old woman, but she felt like smacking the man hard upside the head. Hot with anger, she scrutinized the burly stranger with the aggressive wide-legged stance. His plaid shirt should be in a box on its way to Goodwill charity donations and his faded jeans had obviously seen better days. In Las Vegas, a brother would never be caught dead wearing scuffed shoes, she thought. They dressed to the nines or not at all. But up here in Indianapolis, dressing casual took on a whole new meaning. The man needed a new pair of Birkenstock shoes, and most importantly, a new attitude.

      “Are you from around here?”

      “No, and I don’t have a name or phone number, either.”

      Snorting, he shrugged dismissively. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not interested.”

      “Sure you aren’t. That’s what all the rejected guys say.”

      His face darkened. “Move out of the way so I can take a look at it.”

      “No thanks.” Turning around, she bumped the machine with her hips. The Kit Kat bar fell, along with a jumbo bag of Doritos chips and several packs of gum. Bending down to retrieve her goods, she donned a proud smile. “I told you I didn’t need your help.”

      “You didn’t pay for those things! What you’re doing verges on theft.”

      “So what are you going to do, make a citizen’s arrest?” she asked, the absurdity of her words mocking him. His cologne, like his shirt, screamed for attention, but Sage wasn’t going to give him another second of her time. Turning away, she quipped, “I wish I could stay and continue this riveting verbal exchange, but I have a game to watch.”

      Grinning, she ripped open the bag of Doritos chips and popped one into her mouth. “Mmm, delicious!” Deaf to his threats, she continued down the hall, and ducked inside the gymnasium. In the ten minutes she’d been gone, the stands had filled up and now a row of spectators stood beside the bleachers. Middle-aged men wore the home team’s lively orange jerseys, adoring mothers waved homemade signs and teenage girls stomped their feet to the swish of the cheerleader’s pom-poms. The scent of popcorn and nacho cheese mingled with colognes, perfumes and sweat.

      Smiling apologetically, Sage inched past a row of overzealous fans with spiky hair and vibrant face paint. Stepping over a wailing toddler, she took her place beside her stout, barrel-chested boss, Leo Varick. At fifty-eight, the former sixties child star had been in the entertainment business since birth and a celebrity manager for decades.

      Plunking down on the bench, she reached in her handbag and pulled out a bottle of Perrier water. Shifting uncomfortably, her jean-clad legs colder than blocks of ice, she munched hungrily on the bag of chips. She’d had nothing to eat on the connecting flight from Atlanta. But after partying at the Voodoo Lounge with her girlfriends until dawn, she needed a solid meal, and not the packs of crackers the stewardess had offered.

      “What do you think so far?”

      “I think a lot of these kids have raw talent.”

      “Anyone stand out?”

      Sage shrugged. “Not really.”

      “That’s because you haven’t seen Khari Grant yet.”

      Stuffing the last Dorito chip into her mouth, she brushed the salt from her hands. “That’s the fifth time you’ve mentioned this kid’s name today. He must have some crazy skills on the court, because I’ve never seen you this excited.”

      “Khari’s the real deal. One day fans will be lining up just to see the kid practice.”

      “If he’s such a big-shot athlete, how come I haven’t heard any buzz about him?” Sage sipped her water. “I’m always on the ESPN sports channel message boards, and I haven’t heard jack about a high school player named Khari Grant.”

      “Until last season, Khari was just another point guard, but he went through a major growth spurt and now he’s mopping the floor with his opponents.”

      “But he’s still a teenager. How good could he be?”

      “Khari Grant is one of those rare athletes who only comes along once. Six years ago LeBron James took the basketball world by storm, and it’s just a matter of time before Khari does the same thing. Soon he’ll be signing endorsement contracts and…”

      Crossing her legs, she inspected the frantic crowd of basketball fans. It was the first week in January, and despite being weighed down with bomber jackets, sweaters and velour sweat suits, spectators cheered relentlessly for the home team. Sage had only been in Indianapolis for twenty-four hours, but she already missed home. Unlike Las Vegas, the city was a dark, gloomy gray, and from what Leo had told her on the plane, it was only going to get colder. Thank God we’re only here for the weekend, she thought, stuffing her chilled hands into her wool coat.

      “Did you see that?”

      “No, I missed it. What happened?”

      “He hit a three pointer from half court!” Shaking his head in awe, Leo flipped open his folio case and perused СКАЧАТЬ